How about a massage?
by Anna Nomis
Summary: The team is bored and Dean is especially taking the biggest toll of not having a case to work on. Luckily Dean has an amusing weakness that can kill this two birds with one stone, and Sam knows just the way to do it.


**_How about a massage?_**

Dean was pacing the bunker like a middle schooler before their first dance. With no case to work on, he resorts to mumbling to himself and walking in tense cycles around the bunker; it was starting to rub off on the other members.

"He needs to relax." Sam murmurs to Cas, "it's starting to freak me out too." Cas only gives a stoic nod

"I **am** relaxed" Dean grunts. "I've lived through the end of the world more times than I have fingers. I'm just not used to not having a case to delve into. I need to **shoot** something." He groans and plops himself down on the curved couch.

"Maybe we can distract him or something? We finally have a day off and he's more tense than ever." Sam comments once more to the blue-eyed angel. "It's sadly ironic." Cas agrees, a concerned look on his face that is specific only to when he is worried about Dean.

"I can hear you assholes from here." Dean mumbles, his words garbled by the pillow his face is pushed into. "But if yall want to 'distract me' with a massage or by calling some hookers I ain't complaining." He says only half sarcastically.

Cas rolls his eyes but Sam stops a grins. Recalling an old childhood memory of the only time Sam was ever able to beat Dean in their training fights.

"Actually Dean, I suppose a massage will do you good." Sam comments, barely able to keep the mischief out of his voice. Cas gives a glance at Sam, obviously trying to hide the fact he was eager to have an excuse to touch the older Winchester.

'Those two just need to kiss already. Sam thinks in amusement. While Dean forever claims to 'only be a chick dude', and Castiel doesn't even have full concept of the word 'gay', those two are a match made in heaven. Pun intended.' Sam thinks to himself, grinning.

"Well I'm not complaining." Dean repeats, rolling back over so his back was facing the ceiling and his torso was sinking into the couch. Sam silently motions for Cas to sit above Dean's head (who honestly looked disappointed to not be at the lower half of the man) while Sam sits next to Dean's legs.

Now that Dean's eyes were not facing him, Sam was able to openly smile; earning a confused head tilt from Cas who was now having a go at massaging his friend's shoulders. Dean grunts, and Cas takes the hint to eases the amount of pressure.

Sam starts kneading Dean's back, formulating his plan as he does so. 'Dean needs to relax and smile and laugh, out lives been so stressful lately. He deserves a damn day off.' A massage was good, but it's effects would only last as long as the massage does, same for the hookers and pies (Deans usual go-to when he was bored or upset).

However, what Sam was planning, was sure to last a long , long time. Easing his hands down the blonde Winchester's back, he hears Dean sigh in content.

Cas could feel the tension releasing from Deans strong shoulders. This made him happy but he was still puzzled that and what Sam was planning to do. It was obvious that he wouldn't openly volunteer to massage his older brother workout some Khmer agenda in mind. His suspicions smirk also told Cas that something else was afoot entirely. But unable to figure it out, he returns to his massage focusing instead on the warm sturdiness of Dean's shoulders.

Sam starts massaging his lower back, feeling Dean start to slightly tense. Suppressing a laugh, the larger Winchester starts to put pressure near the back side of dean's hip bones.

"Woah, easy there cowboy." Dean grunts, his entire lower body stiffening. "What's wrong Dean?" Sam responds in an oh so innocent voice. "I - uh I have a … bruise there. From that shifter in Concord." The blonde man responds quickly trying to sink is hips into the couch.

The truth? Dean was ticklish, you tickle him anywhere but his hips and he can play it off. However, as soon as you so much as touch his hip bones, it triggers the rest, all of a sudden he gets sensitive everywhere.

Sam looks at Cas, who finally caught onto Sam's devious plan. And judging from the look in his eyes, he was reliving his own experience of the boys showing him what tickling was: firsthand.

Dean, who must have caught on as well was not buying Sam's innocent act. And obviously didn't trust his own power of persuasion, because he was struggling to get up. However, he only manages to flip himself over before the mammoth Winchester of Sam settles himself on top of his brother's legs.

"Your massage isn't done yet Dean." Sam purrs, no longer making a show to hide his mischievous plan. "Grab his arms will you Cas?" Sam asks, the angle obliges with a beaming smile.

Understanding the new turn of the situation, Dean tries to buck and scramble away, but with a freaking angel holding his arms with the death grip of God and his damn moose of a brother on his legs, it was hopeless.

"Man, this is gay." Dean whines, commenting on the fact that his brother was sitting on his crotch area. "I know you are but what am I?" Sam responds, resorting back to his childhood self. Earning an eye roll and poorly concealed blushing from both Cas and Dean.

Then, without warning, delves into his brothers hip bones.

"Jesuhuhuhs sammy! St-stop, I'm t-to old for thihihis!" He tells, trying hard to keep composure.

"Well it's not my fault you are so damn ticklish." Sam responds in a teasing tone, knowing very well it will drive Dean insane.

Ignoring his brother, Dean looks up to Cas with pleading eyes. "Come on angel. Let me up and we c-can get back at Sam togehehether." He beggs through suppressed giggles, still struggling to free himself.

"Hey, don't you use me as a bargaining chip! You're in so such position to so." Sam says, giving Dean a hard squeeze on the hip bones, causing him to yelp and try to buck himself up. While Cas seems to consider Dean's words for a second, he instead inclines to shakes his head with an uncharacteristic grin.

"Sam is happy Dean. You are the one who is tense. So I see no point in taking your offer." And to set his point in, Cas removes his arms from Dean's and puts them under his knees. That way he then has free hands to start scribbling over Dean's upper ribs with surprisingly swift and agile fingers

"OH GOHOHOSH NOHOHO! PLEASHEHEHSE!" Dean shakes his head back and forth, his eyes squeezed shut. Cursing the bulk of his brother for restricting his movement, Dean can only twitch his body back and forth and laugh.

His composure completely breaks when Sam starts to lift his shirt up. "No no no Sammy please. Please I'm begging you. I'm happy now, I'll have a good day off just please - NOHOHOHOHO!" Dean was lost as Sam started working his fingers up and down dean's exposed abdomen. Wash boarding his ribs, poking the stomach, swirling in the naval, and occasionally giving a good squeeze to the hipbone when he wanted to hear dean's laughter shoot up and octave.

It was a rejuvenating sight to see the hunter so carefree and happy. Even if it was only because he was having the crap tickled out of him.

It was contagious, soon even Cas was laughing with them. Who was still using his fingers to explore the ticklish territory of dean's body.

"I sweahahahare I am gonna kill y'all shit heads." He giggles when they both start gently stroking up and down Dean's chest and stomach.

His breath would hitch and he would try pull on his arms if they hit a bad spot like his hips, navel or upper ribs into his armpits. But quite honestly there was nothing he could really do until Sam was satisfied.

Tired of the slow pace, Sam turn his body around and starts squeezing Dean's knees and scribbling under them.

Startled by the sudden change, Dean straight up squeals and jerks his legs. Surprised, Sam is knocked off the couch, off his chance, Dean twists out from under the knees of the angel who was still distracted by Sam's surprise face-flop.

Still weakened and giggly, Dean can only resort to crawling away. He makes it as far as the end up the carpet before his foot is grabbed and he is dragged back into the hands of his tortures.

"Did we say we were done?" Sam asks, recovered from his fall to the floor.

Dean curls into a ball as the attacks start once more. With Cas attacking his side, ribs and hip bones, and his brother wrapping his mammoth arms around his legs, scribbling behind his knees and over his bare feet.

"SAMMYEYEYEY! I CANTT TAHAHAHAKE THIHIHIS. NOHOHOHOHO! CAS NOT THEREEEE NOOOOOOOO!"

Dean was lost in hysterical laughter as Cas began to blow mini raspberries into the dip of his hip bones. All while squeezing his stomach and letting Sam do his thing on Dean's legs and feet. It was too much.

Sensing their friend was spent, they eased up and released him.

Still giggling and weak, Dean simply rolls into a ball until the ghost tickles leave him.

"I hate you guys." He whines, but his grin begs to differ.

"Don't lie Dean." Cas says, poking his side, causing another eruption of giggles from the grown man. "Or we'll tickle you until you admit to loving both of us."

In horror to the thought, the elder Winchester frantically shakes his head and grins. "Nah, you're right. I love you guys. And thank you, seriously. I can't believe it took that torture to see it but I feel better now."

"No problem." Sam replies smugly, but with genuine love.

"But I'm still gonna get both of you back. Tenfold what you did to me." Dean says, sitting up, making eye contact with both of them.

Sam's smug smiles falls away instantly and he looks to Cas for protection. But the angel simply zaps himself away.

"Traitor." He mumbles, "oh shit." He continues as Dean starts towards him.

The end?


End file.
